the view from next tuesday

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Every Labor Day weekend since we've been married, my husband's family has gathered for our family reunion. Family reunions are such a funny invention -- totally great, of course, but they often bring out the awkward in someone... usually me.

A few years ago, one such instance happened during mealtime on day two of the reunion. I had brought my usual homemade treat to share with the fam, which, I should mention, I had brought for at least the past 4 years, at the request of several in-laws. They are Grandma Porter's Cinnamon Twists and they are absolutely divine. Really, they are seriously delicious, and while I know each of my sisters and my mom honestly believe that they know how to make them best, I would win in a taste/presentation test, hands down. Sorry girls, it is what it is. Bring it.

Anyhoo, as we were all enjoying my Twists, one member of the family (who shall remain nameless to protect the guilty) came up to me and proudly announced, "Well, Marianne, I believe you are the most improved cook in the family!"

Oh.

...What's he/she saying? I've been the painfully unaware, but widely undisputed worst cook in the family? What, do I have a reputation as the one most in need of improvement? "Blah, don't let Marianne make anything, have her bring the cups." Is that why they always assign me to bring chips at all the family gatherings? Because they think I can't cook? Well this is a tiny bit awkward. ...Except that it's kinda funny.

Don't worry, while I really wanted to burst out laughing and halfway wanted to get offended and say something snarky, I DO actually adore this person, and the rest of the clan come to think of it, even if they think I can't cook; so the sliver of grace in me rose to the surface. I winked, raised my Twist at the intended complimenter, and said, "Why thank you!" And I've made sure to volunteer to bring the chips at every function ever since. I'll kill them with kindness. Or chips.

Then there was the year of the peaches. A few years back, someone began the tradition of bringing a large box of freshly picked peaches. Mmmm. LOVE peaches. But I believe this was the first year they had been brought, and it seemed like every time I turned around, someone was talking about the peaches. I couldn't get through a meal without four people asking me if I didn't love the peaches. "Oooh, Marianne, don't you LOVE these peaches?" "You better go get some more peaches, Marianne, these are the best peaches EVER!" "Hey, everyone, aren't these the greatest peaches ever harvested in all of creation?!"

Okay, they were good peaches, but come on, can't we talk about something else? Like the weather? Or how to change a tire? Or politics? Yeah, I'd even take politics over peaches. I mean, how many ways can you agree with someone about a tasty peach, for heaven's sake? "Yessirree!" "You bet!" "Mmmm, MMMM, these ARE good!" "I know, I could talk about them all day, too!"

Okay, so I'm sure I was being weird about it. But on the last day, we always gather for a "what we liked and want to repeat next year" meeting. And of course, someone said, "Oooh! I loved the peaches, make sure you bring some next year!" And of course, that brought several more, "Oh, I DID love those peaches!" "Yes, those were the best!" "I'm thinking of trying to marry those blessed peaches, they were so delicious!!" etc. etc. etc.

Well that about did me in. So I leaned over to Dave and whispered something like, "Oh. My. Lands. Are we STILL talking about the peaches? I mean, I know they're good, but my heavens, how long can a person rave about peaches?! Every time there's a lag in the conversation, someone's bringing up the peaches!"

Only it turns out I wasn't really whispering. I was doing that loudish whisper, the kind they teach you to do in theater, so the guy in the back row can hear you, even though you're whispering. So as I turned from his ear, I realized everyone was watching me, and, of course listening to my non-whispering.

So, gracefully, I'm sure, because I'm always graceful if nothing else, I said something along the lines of, "Well, COME ON! They're just PEACHES! How much to we have to talk about it?? They're PEACHES!"

Yep. Awkward. I'm sure everyone was thinking, "Sheesh, Marianne must not like peaches. Write that down: 'Bring peaches, but not enough so that Marianne feels like she needs to eat some.'"

I'm kidding. They all handled my awkwardness well -- which was sporting of them. I think some of them have a little bit more grace than I do.

I have about forty more of those stories, but lest I finish on a note that really seals the deal on my awkwardness, I'll finish with one about my kids instead. This one's from my family reunion. Every year, we go camping at the same spot up Big Cottonwood Canyon. It's a great little campground, with tons of trees and shade, and paved roads, so the kids can bring their bikes and ride around the trails all day. Unfortunately for my kids that year, we hadn't brought our bikes.

The cousins usually want to all sleep together, all the girls in one tent, all the boys in another. This year was Slade's first time sleeping in the boys' tent. There were four or five of them squashed into a little tent probably made for 2 or 3, so they were having a hard time settling down. After two or three times of someone coming out to complain about something or other, I headed over with my brother to see what we could do to help out. As I approached, I could hear one of my nephews trying to explain his hogging of the space. As I squatted down to peer into the tent, my brother said to his son, "If you don't settle down, so help me, you will lose your bike privileges tomorrow."

It was suddenly deathly quiet in the tent. No one moved, no one spoke -- until Slade broke the silence with, "Is it a new bike?"

You could almost see the little wheels turning in his head, imagining himself riding around on his cousin's shiny bike. That's my boy.

It's a bit of a tragedy, really. This year we won't be able to go to more than a day or so of the reunion. I'm not sure that's enough time for my awkwards to show up.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Today is not one of those days where I'm feeling very on top of things. I just got home and found myself locked out. I went around the house to let myself in and walked into approximately 11 pairs of shoes in the entry way (how many people live in this house?), 6 loads of laundry in the mudroom (hey, it's CLEAN. It's just, you know, waiting to be folded...), an empty refrigerator (well every time I put food in there, someone eats it!), a bolt of canvas and 16 sheets of poster board awaiting their new lives as 96 trek journals in the dining room, a year's worth of receipts and bills to file on the computer desk, several rooms that could use a little more than a "quick cleaning," two finals to study for, and a doofy looking hairdo to top it all off.

Which is why I'm blogging instead of doing any of those things.

I am so productive.

On the plus side, the trip to the car wash really boosted my ego. I didn't realize how cool I was until I was pulling out. I was feeling pretty good already, what with the vacuumed interior, the sparkling exterior, and that sweet smelling vanillaroma christmas tree air freshener hanging off the emergency brake. Sure, I had just come across 5 months worth of miscellaneous kid fodder (2 Happy Meal toys, 3 Readers Digests, 1 notebook, an olive colored Sharpie, 1 sock, 3 gloves, 2 hairbrushes, 1 comb, a roll of toilet paper, someone's t-shirt, 4 piggies, 5 bobby pins,a hanger, and the old cell phone that no longer has service but has the best version of Tetris on it), all a sad reminder of the things a family can collect if you neglect the car wash too long; and of course, there was the inch of water in one of the cup holders that had leaked from the window in the "Super Spray" portion of the wash (is that not normal?); but hey, I was looking GOOD in that clean thing of mine.

Then I looked around at the other cars on the way out of the vacuum area. There were two really big trucks: a Ram 25,000,000 and a GMC Delani 5 Billion or something. There was a red little Smart Car next to the brand new red Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder (which you KNOW must be cool if they spell a normal word weirdly), and a black 2010 Toyota Sequoia, Shiny Edition.

Then there was me -- me and my 2003 Scooby Van (aka Chevrolet Astro. That's right, people, the AstroVan! It even sounds cool!). Sure, it may have been the oldest vehicle in the lot; sure, everyone probably wondered why I bothered spending money to get it washed (actually, as I was soaking up that inch of water with that handier-than-I-realized roll of toilet paper, I was kinda wondering the same thing); sure, mine was certainly the only car that someone paid under $2500 for; but here was my little Scooby Van, rubbing shoulders with the big guys. We had made it to the big leagues. It was a privilege to be in the same car wash with these vehicles.

Yeah, I may have more laundry to fold than I could ever wear (mostly because it's not mine), shoes that never seem to make it to the shoe bin (also not mine), and doofy-looking hair (mine, but I'm embracing it), but at least I've got the Scooby Van. I don't think it gets much better than this.

Anyone want to go for a drive? I'm thinking of hanging at the car wash, giving the 'ol girl a chance to mingle...

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

So it's summer. Really. I think it really is today. I think we might actually stay above 50 degrees until October. Here's crossing my fingers and knocking on OtterPops anyway.

The past two weeks have been filled with several awards ceremonies and other miscellaneous end-of-the-school-year whatzits. Because Dave and I have such goofy schedules, we've been taking turns hitting the different functions in order to ensure the presence of at least one parent for each child's big deal. Sixth grade graduation was the day before the last day of school. Since the twins had a book report they requested their father's attendance at later in the day, I took the graduation.

This was our third 6th grader to graduate, but the first 6th grade graduation I hadn't helped plan and pull off. I felt like this was going to be a vacation since the last two had been a full day of ceremonies, food, and activities for 90 tweens. There had been no time for sweet reflections (sigh, my little girl's growing up...), not a moment for the outfit-check (everything tucked in? Anything hanging out?), not even a second for the camera check (well it's not like they're in caps and gowns, I can get a picture of her with her graduation certificate later...).

Because I have no pictures of my older girls graduating from 6th grade, I felt it was safer to leave the camera at home again this time, thus avoiding awkward questions later ("Mom, why did you take all those pictures of her graduating, and none of me?!"). I didn't realize my blunder until after the graduation speakers had wrapped up their "this isn't the end, it's only the beginning/we are the future/as we go forward, standing on the threshold of tomorrow/oh the places you'll go/follow your dreams!" and other such inspiring thoughts.

Solemnly, the principal walked to the podium to instruct the students on how to properly receive their diplomas. "Students, you'll stand up, walk allllll the way around the back of the auditorium, and wait here until we call your name," she said. "Then you'll come forward, shake all of our hands, get your diploma, and exit the stage right across here."

Right. Got it. Around the back of the auditorium, wait there, names get called (I cheer extra loudly on Ry), they shake hands, they exit the stage.

"But before you leave the stage, you'll stop right here," the principal continued. "Right here, where this 'x' is on the floor, in this spot with all the balloons and the spotlight and the little nook that looks like it'll be just perfect for your graduation photo. Right here you'll stop and hold up your diploma so your moms can get a picture of you, and you'll never forget this special day and how it felt to graduate from the best elementary school on the planet!"

Photo? You mean, like, with a camera? Like the one I left at home sitting on the table with dead batteries? Taken by the mom? I mean, like, me??

Flashback to those 45 seconds at home when I said to myself, "I'd hate for anyone to think I was playing favorites by bringing my camera to only one child's graduation..." Good call, mom. Flashforward to picturing Ry walking up the stage, shaking hands, receiving her diploma, and then stopping to pause for her glorious graduation photo on the little 'x' in the spotlight and no one steps forward to flash a picture of this most precious moment in all of 6th gradedom.

I could be wrong, but this could be a bad mommy moment. Nothing says "Your mommy doesn't really love you" more than being the only kid not getting her picture taken while the entire 6th grade and their parents, grandparents, siblings, cousins, and pets look on. Hey, everybody, look at that kid who isn't getting her picture taken! Doesn't anyone love her??

They called up the first class and I watched, carefully, to see if anyone, anyone else in this blessed room neglected to bring a camera. There! That girl there! Oh, no. No, her mom, dad, grandmother, aunt, and call me crazy, but that looks like a complete stranger, just stepped out from behind the mass of moms waiting with their cameras. Snap, flash, snap, snap. Every single kid had someone taking their picture.

Just as they called Ry's class up, I remembered that every cell phone on the planet is equipped with a camera, and I. Have. A. Cellphone! I'm saved! And then I remembered that I've been trying to milk out my 4-year-old phone and the camera isn't working any more. Flashforward to imagining myself pretending to take her picture with my broken camera, and having some well-meaning woman behind me point out the fact that my phone didn't actually take that picture, I'd better try again.

Curse you, stupid camera phone and overly helpful woman! As Ry's class filed by my row, I frantically tried getting her attention. I stood up and waved my arms like a crazy woman. Luckily, that stealthy move caught her eye, and she beamed and waved at me. Instead of smiling back with the "thumbs up" she was expecting, I made the "cut" motion over and over across my neck and mouthed obviously enough for everyone in the near vicinity to catch what I was saying: "I DON'T HAVE MY CAMERA!!"

Bless that child. She grinned and mouthed, "That's okay," as she shook her head and moved forward in the line. Then, with far more composure than I had exhibited, she waited until they called her name (WOO-HOO RY!), confidently walked up the steps, shook hands, shook hands, shook hands, received her diploma, waited for the kid in front of her to clear the 'x', then gracefully stepped over it on the way to her seat.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Okay, so it's been 45 years since my last post. What can I say? I keep wondering if I should just close this puppy down, but then I fear I'll never write anything at all - well, except maybe papers for school and essays for scholarship applications. Maybe I'll start posting those; at least there'd be something new to read. I'm sure everyone's dying to know why "I Did/Didn't Vote in the Last Election Because..." or "I Am a Conservative/Liberal Because..." Fascinating. Actually, the research paper on the Greene Brothers turned out nice. It even had pictures. I was never allowed to take up space with pictures in high school. But then I didn't really have the internet in high school either, so, you know...

Okay, so I won't post my papers; and I might even start posting something more often than every 9 months. Besides, I DO have four followers. I can't let my loyal fans down. Haha. I'm seriously laughing out loud to myself right now - or should I have said LOL? Blech. ...Which brings me to my reason for posting today.

This morning I was texting one of my friends about the carpool. I have to admit, she is one of the top 5 fun people to text because she always texts funny things. Not necessarily like "I can't stop laughing right now for hilarity in text," although she's had her moments there; but always stuff that at least makes me smile.

I think people roll their eyes when they see they're getting a text from me. That's probably because I'm not the most concise texter (or speaker, or blogger, for that matter). I've had more than one person tell me they always know they're getting a text from me when a text rings in and is immediately followed by another (and often another, and sometimes another more). Okay, so I have a lot to say; or I have a way of saying a little in a lot of words, I don't know which. But on top of my superfluous use of words, I have to say that I'm not really a fan of textese, or textspeak or SMS language or whatever they're calling it, which is certainly going to make my texts longer.

Sure, when I first started texting, I'd say 2 instead of to or too or two. And u instead of you, and r instead of our or are. And I admit it, I used the :) and ;) quite often. But over the past several months I've found myself shifting out of textspeak. And I'm even finding it difficult to use the :). I'll type "(insert smiley here)" instead. THAT could be the reason people get 5-page texts from me. I'm using up like 20 characters, where I could be using two.

I think it was LOL that tipped me overboard. One of our friends told us that his mom always thought that LOL meant Lots of Love. When the family's grandmother passed away, she sent out a text to the everyone that read, "Your grandmother has died. LOL."

I suspect that may have actually been a Readers Digest joke or something. But apparently, according to Wikipedia, LOL can mean Lots of Love too. See? Too confusing.

So I don't use it. I have lots of friends who do, which is fine, but I just can't bring myself to do it. My daughters know this, so they love to send me texts that say, "LOL, I'm going to Ellen's," or to read me people's facebook statuses that have things like, "Just walked into a wall. LOL!" Just not a fan.

But I think the thing that really sealed the deal for me was when I received a totally baffling initialism from my mom. We had been texting back and forth about some challenging thing my family was dealing with at the time, and at the end, my mom said some encouraging words of some sort and then, "And remember, TLWBD."

Um... What??? I admit, I'm not really up on the current terms, except for maybe BTW, JK, GTG and of course, LOL. But TLWBD? What in the world is that one? After trying a few fill-ins myself (To Labor With Bodily Discomfort? That Liars Will Be Damned? Tomorrow's Life Won't Be Death?) I texted her back and said, "Okay, so I know I'm out of it, but I have no idea what TLWBD means."

She texted back and said, "Oh, that's just textspeak for The Lords Will Be Done."

Of course. Silly me. I'm just saying, that wasn't listed in Wikipedia's list of Common Initialisms.

Friday, August 13, 2010

I don't think I told you that we finally gave up on the Rec Center and moved to the real gym. It will come as no surprise that I was a bit torn about the whole thing, given the fact that we had worked so hard on those non-relationships with all those people we had nicknamed. I find it quite a tragedy that I'll never know what happens to all my Rec-Center-Sorta-Friends... Will Sweaty-John-Jones ever know the impact he had upon my daily punishment at the Rec? (As in, Note to self, and all within a 10-foot radius of the man and his elliptical: Stay back. He lives up to his nickname -- drippingly so.) Will Evan, the 60-year-old twin of Dave's 5-year-old nephew, ever know how I puzzled over his utilitarian choice of working out in his swim trunks? And the Jazz Man: Is he still wearing those shiny, purple shorts?

But I wonder most about The Legend. Have I told you about The Legend? The Legend was a tall, thickset guy who usually arrived at the gym just after Dave and I showed up; but he never went "in" the "Out" to get a treadmill. No, The Legend lived only for the weight room. Every day he showed up in sweats that fit a bit too snugly, accompanied by a weight-lifting novice. The Legend and his protege would commandeer the pads in the corner and occupy that spot for at least 45 minutes, doing what?

Stretching. That's right, stretching. In fact, I think that's all I ever saw him do. I remember him giving his apprentice weight lifting tips, but I'm almost certain that I never saw The Legend himself do more than stretch.

The Legend would regale his adoring audience (i.e. his loyal, beginning weight-lifter friend) with tales of the old football glory days, and how he never missed his ritual stretches before their practices. "I never had an injury," he'd say, "because I always made sure I was really stretched and loose before I played. Those other guys," he'd expound, "they just flew through stretching, but they were always benched with new injuries. No, never had one injury." I suspect that The Legend may have avoided injuries simply because he got too wrapped up in the stretching bit; thus he never actually engaged in the Football Game Proper. Just a guess, though.

The Legend was the ultimate expert on stretching. It was rumored (by himself, of course) that he could still do the splits, although he never showed us. ...Probably not enough room or something. Either that or he needed to stretch for another 2 hours before he was ready to pull off the splits, but none of us had that kind of time.

When he wasn't talking about stretching, he was talking about his promising plans to make millions. "Why, I could write myself a $200,000-a-year job," he said one day. Actually, I could too, I'm just not sure that anyone would actually give me that job...or The Legend, for that matter. "It's all about the business model," he'd often repeat, whatever that meant. He certainly seemed to have a lot of untapped potential. At least he talked like he did.

What was great about The Legend was that even if he didn't really know what he was talking about, he sure made it sound like he did. That's actually how he got his nickname.

We began to call him The Legend when one of the other weight room patrons asked him if he was a personal trainer -- an understandable mistake, what with all the weight-lifting advice he was giving his faithful follower. The fact that he didn't lift the weights himself added to the personal trainer impression, since you rarely see a personal trainer doing more than standing around shouting encouragement. And with his bulky build, he almost could have been a body builder gone soft. ...Extremely soft.

So when asked if he was a personal trainer, he smiled and said, "No," and he paused wistfully. "No," he repeated with a sigh, "I'm just a legend in my own mind, right Gary?" I couldn't believe my luck. A Legend. That day, The Legend bestowed upon himself his own nickname.

So having left the Rec Center, I can't help but wonder about The Legend. Has he made his millions? Did he get his $200,000 self-written job? How's his stretching coming along? And most importantly, can he really do the splits?

Friday, July 16, 2010

I love a good beginning. It's almost as delicious as a good ending. Take books, for example. You can tell how fantastic a book's going to be by the first paragraph, sometimes even the first sentence. "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." Classic. "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...." Okay, so I never read that one, but what a beginning. "In the beginning God created the Heaven and Earth..." Now that's promising.

Contrast those happy examples with a book that was recommended to me several years ago. "You've got to read this book, Marianne, you're going to LOVE it," I was told by my over-enthusiastic and painfully unimaginative friend. I took it hesitantly because it was in a genre I don't particularly care for anyway. But try it, I did.

I can't remember the name of the book, but I'm certain it had a cheesy-looking cover, with a strikingly lovely pioneery-looking woman, gazing out over a wind-swept field. Her bonnet was hanging loosely on her shoulders, leaving her hair, of course, flowing in the wind behind her. Cliche and cheesey. It was paperback, and obviously well-loved by its owner, who, truthfully, I didn't really know very well. This was particularly distressing because I couldn't open it confidently with consoling thoughts of "she's never let me down before..."

Alas.

The first line: "It was a good night for dying."

And that's as far as I got. Without a doubt, it was cheesy, cliche, and over-dramatic. Please. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Now that I think of it, I should have flipped to the last page to see if the ending topped the beginning.

Not knowing the ending, I've kindly come up with a few of my own:

"As she lay the posies upon the freshly turned soil, she allowed herself one last tear for the life lived, and the love lost... 'I will never forget. Never,' she vowed. And the wind blew softly across her brow... The End." I hate endings like that.

What about this one: "'And that, Mary Martha, is why I'll never let you outta my sight agin.' And he never did..." No, that's silly, surely this lovely wind-blown beauty would not be named Mary Martha.

In all likelihood, the ending matched the beginning: "Yes, it was a good night... for living" (sniff).

Blast. I'll never know.

Oh well. It's late, and I can't remember the point of this post. G'nite.

sites i spend time on

what i'm reading right now

mansfield park - our girlfriend Jane Austen. Again. I've only read all of her major works once, aside from Pride & Prejudice and Emma, which are my two faves. I have no idea how many times I've read those two. But I recently saw a (I suspect) rather loose film adaptation of it and thought I'd read this one again to remember the real story.

ps. this is the first non-textbook I've read since January 2011. hooray for pointless reading! I've got to pick up The Help and get that read next.

recent reads & re-reads

a real boy - christina adams. non-fiction book written by the mother of a child who was diagnosed with autism at the age of 3, but by the age of 5, was considered essentially "recovered." Fascinating to read about this woman's experience, particularly because when i first started reading about autism, everything said that it's a life-time disease, there's no fixing it, only the hope of improvement. this book would make you think otherwise. eye-opening.

figgs & phantoms - ellen raskin. i pulled this off the shelf because... i have no idea. but i recognized her name, she's the one who wrote "the westing game," which i quite liked. so it's a newberry honor, and in general, i liked it. but the end kinda turned into this wierd dream sequence, so i didn't finish it going, "great book!" it was more like, "well i quite liked it until the last few chapters, then it was... a dream sequence." dream sequence? come on, that's the cliche tool of movie makers and burned out story-tellers. "hmmm, how do we get our main character out of this one? i know, let's turn this into a dream!" k, it wasn't quite that bad, but it was somehow a little disappointing... but lots of fun until then...

the leanin' dog - k.a. nuzum. okay, you should know that i avoid dog books. because someone (usually the dog) always ends up dying in dog books, and then i end up crying and getting mad because i'm crying over a fictitious dog. this one had a different beginning that pulled me in and intrigued me, even though it's kinda got a sad start. don't let that stop you, though. the heroine is 10 or so i think, and the book is set in some time gone by when people lived in cabins in the mountains and got snowed in all winter (but luckily the 7 brothers stole 6 lovely single ladies from town before setting off an avalanche to get them all stuck up there for months....wait.) i liked it. i couldn't get Ry to read it, even though i paid her a buck to read the first chapter. she read two and still wouldn't finish it. she hates dog books, too...

overboard - elizabeth fama. this was a local award nominee. amazon readers gave it awesome reviews, but at best I'd say...Meh... I had a difficult time connecting with the main character, so when she goes down with a sinking ferry, and i had to spend pages and pages alone with her thoughts while she swam and swam and swam, well, that about says it. Meh. It's a young adult read, mostly because she has to deal with drowning, desparate people. it's a quick read, too, which was fortunate, otherwise i'd have had to give it worse than a Meh.

the palace of laughter - john berkeley. picked this one up with my oh-so-discerning eye. okay, it had a cute cover. loved it, ps! very funny fantasy with heart and silliness and engaging things, like every new chapter begins with lines like this: "Miles Wednesday, mud-caked and red-handed," blah blah blah... or "Miles Wednesday, half-shaved and bone-wielding..." okay, I kinda made that second one up, but it's cute. And it's a series, so we'll see how the rest of them play out. this one's definitely a fantastic read-aloud.

brooklyn nine - alan m gratz. fun book that follows one family's story through baseball. starts in pre-civil war and finishes up in the 00s. is that what we're calling them now? the 00s? or do i have to say the 2000s? fun book. didn't absolutely love it, but i enjoyed it. it's probably awesome if you love baseball and history stewed together.

these is my words: the diary of sarah agnes prine, 1881-1901, arizona territories - nancy e turner. what a title, huh? just call it "these is my words," that's what everyone else does. i read this last fall, too, and i think i forgot to give my take on it. i really really really liked this one. in fact, i'd say i love it, except that it wasn't picture-perfect in the end. it's not like i have to have happy endings, either, but i would have given it a different ending. if you've read it, let's talk. this is a fictional diary based on the author's grandmother, or great-grandmother, i can't remember which. i loved the characters, sarah in particular, but jack would easily take the place of edward (or jacob, if you lean that way) if "twilight" were a western set in the late 1800s. not that jack's a vampire or anything, he's just a really fun hero for sarah. i was amazed at the author's ability to flawlessly and believably voice a poorly-spelled 18-yr-old young woman and take her to a matured, literate journaler. is that a word? journaling is, so i suppose journaler could be. anyhoo, i recommend it, it's one of those books you finish up and wonder what the characters are doing now -- always a sign of a good bunch of characters. ps, yes, i have read the twilight books, way back when they first came out. and i can't review them, at least without copious eye-rolling and poorly-concealed laughter... fyi...

the elegance of the hedgehog - muriel barbery. i acutally read this last winter and forgot to include it in my list. it's different. i didn't think i could like 1 of the two main characters because she's so pessimistic, but she kinda turned out in the end. there are several sections that wandered into paragraphs of philosophizing, which were a bit tiresome, but i think i could call the book lovely overall. but then it turns out i really didn't love it, even though it was lovely. the end stinks. i invested way to much time in that book for the ending i got. but there were many funny parts, even in the philosphy. i can't decide if i recommend it. meh. that's my take. meh.

harry potter and the deathly hallows - jk rowling. i love this series! if you happen to be one of the few who haven't read it, go get it. who cares that it's for kids? most of my favorite books are for younger readers. and rowling doesn't dumb it down for you, unlike so many youth authors feel they have to. love, love, love this book! ...except the epilogue. it wrapped it up nicely, but it was almost trite.

harry potter and the half-blood prince - jk rowling. hadn't made it to the library so when this was sitting on the table, i just decided to read it again. 4 days later i started th 7th. i love harry potter.

the way i see it - temple grandin. don't ask me why, because i have absolutely no idea, but the topic of autism is fascinating to me. i don't have children with it, nor do i have nieces and nephews who have been diagonsed with it. i have 2 cousins and a friend at work whose children have been diagnosed. it's not something that has hit particularly close to home for me, but every child can benefit from advice in this book. temple grandin, herself is a successful adult who has autism. fascinating.

hidden talents - david lubar. k, often when i'm looking for new books (if i haven't received any good recommendations), I just wander the teen section looking for these stickers they put on the spines that they're utah young adults' book award nominees, or ALA best books for young adult winners, or whatever. this book, and the following book were both nominees or winners of some sort. i liked this one, i'm thinking it's a good one for 5-8th grade boys. but my girls would probably enjoy it as well. it works for boys because all the main characters are boys. fun read.

sleeping freshmen never lie - david lubar. perfect book for jr highers, all about life as a freshman in high school. but we never had seniors picking on sophomores just because they were the youngest. maybe it's different in a 4-yr high school. but very funny, great main character. feel free to read it.

to kill a mockingbird - harper lee. (or as the twins call it, how to kill a mockingbird. "do they really tell you how to kill it, mom?" no. they don't. ok, so this is standard high school reading, but i loved loved loved it when i read it in 10th grade, and just so happened to pass a copy in the library, so i grabbed it. i forgot how much i love this book. love, love, love this book.

catching fire - suzanne collins. they finally called my number at the library. i didn't know if i cared enough to read the sequel to "hunger games," but looks like i did. it was good, more of the same; i'm not one of the "can't wait for the next one" kinda people on this series, mostly because i'm a reader who has to connect in some way to someone (preferably the main character), at some point in the story; and i really can't relate to katniss at all. ever. but they're good stories, a little dark with the whole apocalyptic horrible world they live in, but they keep me reading, so there you go.

charlie bones - jenny nimmo. i read the first and second book, and part of book 3, and got too bored. don't get me wrong, i think they're great books for younger readers; in fact, i think TheBoy will really like them if he can ever get off his harry potter obsession. but harry potter could be the downfall of charlie bone for him. the charlie bones assume you're a little younger or dumber, and as such, are more satisfied with a fairly quick and simple resolution to every conflict. but the characters are all fairly likeable. there appear to be a few holes, like why in the world the bloors didn't want the girl who can fly to wake up out of her hypnotic state. but maybe i'd have found out if i kept up with the series...

moonraker's bride - madeline brent. this was the "novel of romantic suspense," and I liked it. it's not new, it's like, i don't know, 30 years old? but enjoyable.

schooled - gordon korman. teen book and i loved it. very funny, all the way through. a story about a 15-yr-old (or is he 14? anyhoo, Capricorn Anderson is his name) who has been raised by his hippie grandmother (Rain), but is forced into "real life" when Rain breaks her hip; Capricorn is sent to live in a foster home for 6 weeks while Rain recovers. absolutely hilarious. think i'll buy it.

waiting for normal - leslie connor. another teen book i picked up because it was a runner-up for some "family book of the year award" or something. i thought i wasn't going to care for this book, because it seemed fraught with drama. (how can you argue with a word like "fraught?"). The main character (addie) is a 12-yr-old whose mom just divorced for the second time; they move into a trailer across the street from a convenience store. Of course the lady who works in the convenience store has cancer, and Addie's mom is totally messed up. Sounds promising, huh. But Addie is somewhat endearing and fairly upbeat despite her pretty lame home life. And it has a happy ending that would rarely happen in real life. I think that's why I decided I like it.

book of a thousand days - shannon hale. hmm... it's shannon hale.

behind the attic wall - sylvia cassedy. i read this book in like 5th or 6th grade, and ran across it at the library the other day. so i picked it up. i had forgotten all about it, i only remembered the cover and the slightly creepy feeling i got while reading it. it's a good book for that age group, but rybread got tired of it half way through... ps. dumb ending. i think i don't really recommend it. dumb ending.

life expectancy - dean koontz. this is one of my favorite books ever, despite the somewhat "ew" aspect that sprinkles its way through the book. i just so love the main characters, they're people you'd love to sit down and eat dinner with (mostly because 2 of them are brilliant pastry chefs) and laugh with all night. this was my second time reading it, and because i knew the characters better, the "ew" factor seemed more prominent, but a great book all the same.

tom sawyer - mark twain. orem library was doing this one for their "big read" so i grabbed my free copy and began... i read huckleberry finn in high school, and i loved that, but never bothered with tom sawyer. delightful. think i'll read it to TheBoy.

the guernsey literary and potato peel pie society - mary ann shaffer & annie barrows. can i just say that i loved this book? i loved loved loved this book! it is not often that i love a book so much that i want to go buy my own copy immediately so i can read it and love it again. i love this book. the entire story is told through letters written by the characters, which i didn't think i was going to like for the first 7 or 8 pages. but then suddenly you begin to know the characters and love them -- all of them, even the despicable ones. brilliant. you must read this book. if you read nothing else i've recommended, you must must must read this beautiful book. don't bother waiting 5 months for the library copy. just buy it. i love this book. and i want to go to guernsey.

the first 6 books in the amelia peabody series - elizabeth peters. does it count as a recent re-read if it was an audio book? oh well, i don't know if i'd love them as much if i were reading them myself. they are: 1. crocodile on the sandbank 2. the curse of the pharohs 3. the mummy case 4. lion in the valley 5. the deeds of the disturber 6. the last camel died at noon ...that was for you, christine.

the mysterious benedict society - trenton lee stewart. fun youth book about 4 SUPER smart kids-turned-spies. i liked it a lot. i'm not screaming to read the next one, but it's a fun one and i think my kids will like it, too.

the prize-winner of defiance, ohio - terry ryan. great memoir about the daughter of a woman who raised her "10 kids on 25 words or less." a little inspiring, too. funny, thoughtful, great book. great mom.

the westing game - ellen raskin. so fun! a little confusing at first, trying to keep everybody straight, but really fun to try to figure out the mystery. you won't. trust me.

here lies the librarian - richard peck. another great peck title. dave read this one, too and really liked it as well. he's just so dang good and has fantastic characters.